fic: Leaning on You
Title: Leaning on You
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,367
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, they belong to Kripke and co. This was done for fun, not profit.
Warnings/Spoilers: …some violence. If you know who Gabriel is, you're good
Summary: A run in with a couple angels finds Sam on the wrong end of an angel's blade.
Notes: Just a little hurt!Sam fic that I wrote months ago (during Sabriel Week). I didn't post it then because I wanted to make it longer, but no matter how many times I've looked at it I just haven't been able to add anything on. So now I want to post it because it's been forever since I posted a fic of mine.
Notes 2: Unbeta'd. I've read it over a couple times, but feel free to point out any typos so that I can fix them. :D
---
Ice.
That's the first sensation Sam felt when it happened.
Like ice was stabbing into his side. It throbbed, a dull pulse he barely felt beside the cold.
Then the angel twisted the blade, tearing flesh and muscle and the cold numb became a burning fire racing through his side and sending him tumbling to his knees. Even when the blade was wrenched free, it still felt like he was being torn in two. Worse than any bullet he'd taken in the past; worse than what little he remembered of the time he'd been stabbed clean through when Anna sent them to the past.
The angel sneered down at him with her borrowed face, raising the glinting silver weapon for a killing blow that he had no hope to dodge. He closed his eyes, curling into himself in as much a feeble attempt to curb the pain as to protect himself. There was no getting away this time, no last minute save. Sam thought maybe he should care that he would be dying - maybe permanently this time - but there was no fear or worry; only a sense of calm, that he would face whatever the afterlife had prepared for him.
Dean yelled from somewhere ahead of him, sounding far away even though Sam knew his brother had only been on the other side of the room when they got ambushed by a pair of angels looking to earn a promotion by taking down the 'infamous Winchester boys'. Blinking sluggishly, Sam wanted to find his brother, to look at him one more time before he was gone - there was little chance he'd get the chance to see him again in Heaven, Sam hadn't held out hope to find his way back there since they were brought back.
There wasn't any time, though. Any second, the angel would slice their blade across his throat or stab it into his chest and relish the moment his life drained from his body.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, wishing to see his brother but not willing to look up and have his last sight be the angel about to kill him. His entire body was tensed, knuckles white where his hands were clenched into fists. Sweat trickled down to pool, just under his shirt, at the small of his back, and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion; taking an eternity to come to a head.
Nothing happened.
Breath caught in his chest, aching to be let out. Sam opened his eyes. He cautiously peered up to find the angel frozen in her spot, mid-swing. His pain-addled mind wasn't sure he was seeing things correctly and it took another moment before he realized how quiet the room had become. The only sounds he could make out were his harried breathing and the rush of blood pumping in his ears.
Wind whipped through the room with a flutter of wing beats, a cool relief to his overheated body. Sam squinted against it, arms too heavy to lift over his head. Too tired to care.
Another angel, he thought with an odd sort of detachment.
He wasn't wrong, though he wouldn't have guessed which angel would appear just beside the one who'd been trying to kill him.
Eyes usually the color of caramel flashed gold and powerful and ancient as they took in the scene. With a snap of the angel's fingers, the heavy silence lifted but the other angels - the one who'd had Dean backed into the far wall as well as the one who'd stabbed Sam - were gone.
"Sammy!"
Dean's voice filtered in again, closer than it had been before and as comforting and familiar as the hands that caught him when his knees refused to hold his weight any longer.
"Sam… Sam, answer me, damnit!"
Gabriel stood just behind Dean, shoulders tense and shifting and twitching back. Sam had the sudden, hazy thought that his wings might be on this plane, larger than life but invisible to everyone around. With more effort than it should have taken, Sam forced his eyes away from the angel who was looking anywhere but at him, alert for any further danger.
"Dean," he bit out through a clenched jaw. The wound still pulsed, like someone had taken a hot poker to his side rather than an angel's blade.
"Right here, Sammy," Dean said, a hand coming up to frame one half of Sam's face, fingers cradling the back of his head and thumb just over his cheek. It was a position Sam had been familiar with since even before he'd known about the family business; whenever he'd fallen off his bike or gotten a scraped knee, big brother was there to check him over and make things better. He let himself lean into the touch, just a little, hissing when Dean's other hand pressed into the wound.
"Get with the healing, already."
The words came out strained with the anger Dean was holding back. Sam wished he could do something more to assure his brother that he was alright, but it was hard to focus beyond the burning in his side and the growing headache pounding at his temples. All he could do was keep his eyes on his brother's face and curl a hand over the one his brother was using to stem the bleeding, even as Dean looked back over his shoulder at Gabriel.
He caught movement in the corner of his eye, the brush of fingertips at his forehead, but the relief that action usually brought did not come. The burning eased, became something more bearable. He blew out a breath and felt some tension drain away, but the pain was still there even as the bleeding stopped.
"It's still - "
Sam was cut off by Gabriel's fingers sliding from his forehead. They ran through his hair, soothing his scalp in a way that normally turned Sam into little more than a puddle of goo.
In a blink, the world shifted around them. Sam winced when he found himself laid out on his back. But the bed was soft, softer than the one in the motel they had just vacated, and it only took a second to relax into the pillows under his head.
Dean was by his side, barely sparing a moment to glare at Gabriel, before checking Sam over with his eyes. Sheets were cool against his back and Sam realized his shirt was gone. He was too tired to care when there was still a steady, dull throb in his side and he glanced down curiously to find that his side was already bandaged up in white gauze. When his brother moved to check the dressings, Sam turned his head and looked up at where Gabriel leaned back against the headboard next to him.
"Can't do any more than that, kiddo. Wounds from an angel blade have gotta heal on their own. You're lucky she got you where she did, no danger of dying."
The angel sent Dean a glare of his own when his brother scoffed. His eyes were back to amber again, but as fierce as they had been when he first found them in the motel.
"It's the truth. You act like you've never stitched him up for a stab wound before. Don't act all high and mighty, Winchester. You and your father got Sam into worse scrapes than this one and at least with me you've got a good place to hide away while he recovers."
Sam looked at his brother, forcing back the inappropriate warmth spreading in his chest that had nothing to do with the wound at his side and everything to do with the fierce protection and love that he could hear beneath everything his angel said. It was the same voice his brother used when defending Sam, (even when self-doubt crept up on Sam and weighed down his shoulders until Dean knocked some sense into him with a big helping of 'No one gets to put that look on my brother's face, not even himself.'). Dean opened his mouth to argue, shoulders straight and body held tense and ready for a fight.
"Guys!" Sam interrupted before his brother could start, "He's right, Dean. This could have been worse. Hell, it has been worse before. We'll deal. Now both of you shut up. I'm tired, my head hurts, and I just want to sleep."
Dean looked like he still wanted to say something, but he closed his mouth and rolled his eyes. He shoved Sam's shoulder, just enough to jostle him but not badly enough that it bothered his side.
"You need all the beauty sleep you can get, Samantha."
"Bite me, jerk."
Gabriel chuckled and Sam felt him settle down.
A reassuring pat on his shoulder caught Sam's attention again and he smiled sleepily at his brother. Dean gave him another quick once over, giving Sam - and then Gabriel, like Sam couldn't take care of himself - a pointed look. Sam rolled his eyes and laughed at Dean's muttered, "Bitch," before he moved to the second bed.
Brow crinkling, Sam looked back at Gabriel and found himself faced with a sheepish grin he wasn't used to seeing.
"I figured your brother won't let you outta his sight for awhile and I'm really not up to sharing a bed with your brother." They both ignored the indignant snort from the other bed, "Wasn't worth the fight when I could just snap up another bed."
"Works for me," Sam said, feeling the words run together.
Gabriel smiled, a real smile, and ran a hand over his forehead. The beginnings of his headache eased away. His eyelids grew heavy; he blinked and it was like they'd been turned to lead with the amount of effort it took to try opening them again.
"Shhh, Sam," Gabriel whispered. His voice was closer, just in front of him, breath tickling the top of Sam's head. The angel brushed his hair back behind his ear, repeating it over and over, slow and easy. Sam was helpless to stay awake with the sound of his brother's breathing one bed over and his lover so close and warm.
***
He woke up to the smell of coffee, Gabriel's hand running through his hair. A slow smile spread across his face and he moved to roll onto his side and wrap an arm around the angel's waist, but was stopped by a warm hand on his chest.
"Wha?"
Blinking, Sam wrinkled his nose when Gabriel chuckled and poked the tip of it. All he wanted to do was cuddle up closer to his angel and he got poked in the nose for it. That didn't seem very fair, he thought with a pout.
Gabriel soothed a warm hand in small circles over Sam's chest and hummed. "You're not quite up to laying on your side just yet, Samcakes."
It was only when Gabriel's hand swept down and skirted the edges of the gauze that Sam remembered the wound at his side. The throbbing was gone, a fact that let him relax into the mattress. He still felt it, though, like any other stab wound he'd gotten only a touch more intense.
"Right," he breathed, letting his head fall back on his pillow with a sigh.
Gabriel leaned up until Sam could see him, their lips only a breath apart. His lips were turned down, no sign of a smirk at the edges and it made Sam's chest clench that Gabriel was worried about him. "If I could have done more..," the angel said, trailing off and shaking his head.
Sam lifted a hand to cup Gabriel's cheek and pull him into a soft kiss. "You did what you could. More than you had to, and I'm fine. I'm just a bit more like Dean than I like to admit, it sucks being laid up in bed."
The serious frown melted into a leer, smirk back in full force. Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. "I'm sure some sucking could be arranged."
A laugh burst out of Sam hard enough to cause the stitches in his side to pull. He sucked in a breath, but waved away the growing concern in Gabriel's eyes, chuckling when Dean groaned from the other bed.
"There is not enough brain bleach in the world to deal with you two."
"Dude. Like I've never had to deal with you and your conquests."
Dean scoffed. Sam watched him sit up, swinging his jean-clad legs over the edge of the bed. "Yeah, well. That's different."
"Different how?" Sam challenged, raising an eyebrow and fighting to hold in a laugh at the way Dean's hair was sticking out on the side.
His brother seemed to catch on anyways, throwing him one of his 'say it and die' glares. "Because I said so, that's why."
"Whatever, dude." Sam shook his head, no longer able to hold back his snort. Dean huffed and rushed past them.
He felt Gabriel shaking where the angel's chest was pressed against his. They laughed together, foreheads touching when Dean slammed the door to what Sam assumed was the bathroom.
"How do you think he'd react if I - "
"No pranks, Gabriel," Sam interrupted firmly.
Gabriel pouted, bottom lip sticking out temptingly. Caramel eyes were wide and watery but Sam wasn't falling for it. "No. If I'm going to be stuck in this bed for who knows how long, there will be no pranking of any kind. Understood?"
Gabriel opened his mouth and Sam, seeing the argument in his eyes, cut him off before he could start. "Understood?"
Nodding, the angel's pout didn't let up.
"Thank you," Sam sighed, lifting his head just enough to draw Gabriel's pouted lip between his teeth. The angel relaxed against him, opening up to him despite Sam's morning breath.
"Oh come on!"
They broke apart, and Sam turned to Dean with a grin on his face. Gabriel pushed off of him, taking up his spot from the night before - leaning against the headboard, right beside Sam - and buried his fingers into Sam's hair. Sam figured if he was stuck here for a while, this wasn't a bad way to spend it.
Pairing: Sam/Gabriel
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2,367
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Disclaimer: I don't own the boys, they belong to Kripke and co. This was done for fun, not profit.
Warnings/Spoilers: …some violence. If you know who Gabriel is, you're good
Summary: A run in with a couple angels finds Sam on the wrong end of an angel's blade.
Notes: Just a little hurt!Sam fic that I wrote months ago (during Sabriel Week). I didn't post it then because I wanted to make it longer, but no matter how many times I've looked at it I just haven't been able to add anything on. So now I want to post it because it's been forever since I posted a fic of mine.
Notes 2: Unbeta'd. I've read it over a couple times, but feel free to point out any typos so that I can fix them. :D
---
Ice.
That's the first sensation Sam felt when it happened.
Like ice was stabbing into his side. It throbbed, a dull pulse he barely felt beside the cold.
Then the angel twisted the blade, tearing flesh and muscle and the cold numb became a burning fire racing through his side and sending him tumbling to his knees. Even when the blade was wrenched free, it still felt like he was being torn in two. Worse than any bullet he'd taken in the past; worse than what little he remembered of the time he'd been stabbed clean through when Anna sent them to the past.
The angel sneered down at him with her borrowed face, raising the glinting silver weapon for a killing blow that he had no hope to dodge. He closed his eyes, curling into himself in as much a feeble attempt to curb the pain as to protect himself. There was no getting away this time, no last minute save. Sam thought maybe he should care that he would be dying - maybe permanently this time - but there was no fear or worry; only a sense of calm, that he would face whatever the afterlife had prepared for him.
Dean yelled from somewhere ahead of him, sounding far away even though Sam knew his brother had only been on the other side of the room when they got ambushed by a pair of angels looking to earn a promotion by taking down the 'infamous Winchester boys'. Blinking sluggishly, Sam wanted to find his brother, to look at him one more time before he was gone - there was little chance he'd get the chance to see him again in Heaven, Sam hadn't held out hope to find his way back there since they were brought back.
There wasn't any time, though. Any second, the angel would slice their blade across his throat or stab it into his chest and relish the moment his life drained from his body.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut tight, wishing to see his brother but not willing to look up and have his last sight be the angel about to kill him. His entire body was tensed, knuckles white where his hands were clenched into fists. Sweat trickled down to pool, just under his shirt, at the small of his back, and everything felt like it was moving in slow motion; taking an eternity to come to a head.
Nothing happened.
Breath caught in his chest, aching to be let out. Sam opened his eyes. He cautiously peered up to find the angel frozen in her spot, mid-swing. His pain-addled mind wasn't sure he was seeing things correctly and it took another moment before he realized how quiet the room had become. The only sounds he could make out were his harried breathing and the rush of blood pumping in his ears.
Wind whipped through the room with a flutter of wing beats, a cool relief to his overheated body. Sam squinted against it, arms too heavy to lift over his head. Too tired to care.
Another angel, he thought with an odd sort of detachment.
He wasn't wrong, though he wouldn't have guessed which angel would appear just beside the one who'd been trying to kill him.
Eyes usually the color of caramel flashed gold and powerful and ancient as they took in the scene. With a snap of the angel's fingers, the heavy silence lifted but the other angels - the one who'd had Dean backed into the far wall as well as the one who'd stabbed Sam - were gone.
"Sammy!"
Dean's voice filtered in again, closer than it had been before and as comforting and familiar as the hands that caught him when his knees refused to hold his weight any longer.
"Sam… Sam, answer me, damnit!"
Gabriel stood just behind Dean, shoulders tense and shifting and twitching back. Sam had the sudden, hazy thought that his wings might be on this plane, larger than life but invisible to everyone around. With more effort than it should have taken, Sam forced his eyes away from the angel who was looking anywhere but at him, alert for any further danger.
"Dean," he bit out through a clenched jaw. The wound still pulsed, like someone had taken a hot poker to his side rather than an angel's blade.
"Right here, Sammy," Dean said, a hand coming up to frame one half of Sam's face, fingers cradling the back of his head and thumb just over his cheek. It was a position Sam had been familiar with since even before he'd known about the family business; whenever he'd fallen off his bike or gotten a scraped knee, big brother was there to check him over and make things better. He let himself lean into the touch, just a little, hissing when Dean's other hand pressed into the wound.
"Get with the healing, already."
The words came out strained with the anger Dean was holding back. Sam wished he could do something more to assure his brother that he was alright, but it was hard to focus beyond the burning in his side and the growing headache pounding at his temples. All he could do was keep his eyes on his brother's face and curl a hand over the one his brother was using to stem the bleeding, even as Dean looked back over his shoulder at Gabriel.
He caught movement in the corner of his eye, the brush of fingertips at his forehead, but the relief that action usually brought did not come. The burning eased, became something more bearable. He blew out a breath and felt some tension drain away, but the pain was still there even as the bleeding stopped.
"It's still - "
Sam was cut off by Gabriel's fingers sliding from his forehead. They ran through his hair, soothing his scalp in a way that normally turned Sam into little more than a puddle of goo.
In a blink, the world shifted around them. Sam winced when he found himself laid out on his back. But the bed was soft, softer than the one in the motel they had just vacated, and it only took a second to relax into the pillows under his head.
Dean was by his side, barely sparing a moment to glare at Gabriel, before checking Sam over with his eyes. Sheets were cool against his back and Sam realized his shirt was gone. He was too tired to care when there was still a steady, dull throb in his side and he glanced down curiously to find that his side was already bandaged up in white gauze. When his brother moved to check the dressings, Sam turned his head and looked up at where Gabriel leaned back against the headboard next to him.
"Can't do any more than that, kiddo. Wounds from an angel blade have gotta heal on their own. You're lucky she got you where she did, no danger of dying."
The angel sent Dean a glare of his own when his brother scoffed. His eyes were back to amber again, but as fierce as they had been when he first found them in the motel.
"It's the truth. You act like you've never stitched him up for a stab wound before. Don't act all high and mighty, Winchester. You and your father got Sam into worse scrapes than this one and at least with me you've got a good place to hide away while he recovers."
Sam looked at his brother, forcing back the inappropriate warmth spreading in his chest that had nothing to do with the wound at his side and everything to do with the fierce protection and love that he could hear beneath everything his angel said. It was the same voice his brother used when defending Sam, (even when self-doubt crept up on Sam and weighed down his shoulders until Dean knocked some sense into him with a big helping of 'No one gets to put that look on my brother's face, not even himself.'). Dean opened his mouth to argue, shoulders straight and body held tense and ready for a fight.
"Guys!" Sam interrupted before his brother could start, "He's right, Dean. This could have been worse. Hell, it has been worse before. We'll deal. Now both of you shut up. I'm tired, my head hurts, and I just want to sleep."
Dean looked like he still wanted to say something, but he closed his mouth and rolled his eyes. He shoved Sam's shoulder, just enough to jostle him but not badly enough that it bothered his side.
"You need all the beauty sleep you can get, Samantha."
"Bite me, jerk."
Gabriel chuckled and Sam felt him settle down.
A reassuring pat on his shoulder caught Sam's attention again and he smiled sleepily at his brother. Dean gave him another quick once over, giving Sam - and then Gabriel, like Sam couldn't take care of himself - a pointed look. Sam rolled his eyes and laughed at Dean's muttered, "Bitch," before he moved to the second bed.
Brow crinkling, Sam looked back at Gabriel and found himself faced with a sheepish grin he wasn't used to seeing.
"I figured your brother won't let you outta his sight for awhile and I'm really not up to sharing a bed with your brother." They both ignored the indignant snort from the other bed, "Wasn't worth the fight when I could just snap up another bed."
"Works for me," Sam said, feeling the words run together.
Gabriel smiled, a real smile, and ran a hand over his forehead. The beginnings of his headache eased away. His eyelids grew heavy; he blinked and it was like they'd been turned to lead with the amount of effort it took to try opening them again.
"Shhh, Sam," Gabriel whispered. His voice was closer, just in front of him, breath tickling the top of Sam's head. The angel brushed his hair back behind his ear, repeating it over and over, slow and easy. Sam was helpless to stay awake with the sound of his brother's breathing one bed over and his lover so close and warm.
***
He woke up to the smell of coffee, Gabriel's hand running through his hair. A slow smile spread across his face and he moved to roll onto his side and wrap an arm around the angel's waist, but was stopped by a warm hand on his chest.
"Wha?"
Blinking, Sam wrinkled his nose when Gabriel chuckled and poked the tip of it. All he wanted to do was cuddle up closer to his angel and he got poked in the nose for it. That didn't seem very fair, he thought with a pout.
Gabriel soothed a warm hand in small circles over Sam's chest and hummed. "You're not quite up to laying on your side just yet, Samcakes."
It was only when Gabriel's hand swept down and skirted the edges of the gauze that Sam remembered the wound at his side. The throbbing was gone, a fact that let him relax into the mattress. He still felt it, though, like any other stab wound he'd gotten only a touch more intense.
"Right," he breathed, letting his head fall back on his pillow with a sigh.
Gabriel leaned up until Sam could see him, their lips only a breath apart. His lips were turned down, no sign of a smirk at the edges and it made Sam's chest clench that Gabriel was worried about him. "If I could have done more..," the angel said, trailing off and shaking his head.
Sam lifted a hand to cup Gabriel's cheek and pull him into a soft kiss. "You did what you could. More than you had to, and I'm fine. I'm just a bit more like Dean than I like to admit, it sucks being laid up in bed."
The serious frown melted into a leer, smirk back in full force. Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. "I'm sure some sucking could be arranged."
A laugh burst out of Sam hard enough to cause the stitches in his side to pull. He sucked in a breath, but waved away the growing concern in Gabriel's eyes, chuckling when Dean groaned from the other bed.
"There is not enough brain bleach in the world to deal with you two."
"Dude. Like I've never had to deal with you and your conquests."
Dean scoffed. Sam watched him sit up, swinging his jean-clad legs over the edge of the bed. "Yeah, well. That's different."
"Different how?" Sam challenged, raising an eyebrow and fighting to hold in a laugh at the way Dean's hair was sticking out on the side.
His brother seemed to catch on anyways, throwing him one of his 'say it and die' glares. "Because I said so, that's why."
"Whatever, dude." Sam shook his head, no longer able to hold back his snort. Dean huffed and rushed past them.
He felt Gabriel shaking where the angel's chest was pressed against his. They laughed together, foreheads touching when Dean slammed the door to what Sam assumed was the bathroom.
"How do you think he'd react if I - "
"No pranks, Gabriel," Sam interrupted firmly.
Gabriel pouted, bottom lip sticking out temptingly. Caramel eyes were wide and watery but Sam wasn't falling for it. "No. If I'm going to be stuck in this bed for who knows how long, there will be no pranking of any kind. Understood?"
Gabriel opened his mouth and Sam, seeing the argument in his eyes, cut him off before he could start. "Understood?"
Nodding, the angel's pout didn't let up.
"Thank you," Sam sighed, lifting his head just enough to draw Gabriel's pouted lip between his teeth. The angel relaxed against him, opening up to him despite Sam's morning breath.
"Oh come on!"
They broke apart, and Sam turned to Dean with a grin on his face. Gabriel pushed off of him, taking up his spot from the night before - leaning against the headboard, right beside Sam - and buried his fingers into Sam's hair. Sam figured if he was stuck here for a while, this wasn't a bad way to spend it.